


Business First, Coffee Second

by SpiritWave



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Businessmen, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:05:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4320666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpiritWave/pseuds/SpiritWave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the tumblr AU prompt "you sat in my reserved train seat and refused to move so I sat on your lap and now we’re both too annoyed and awkwardly turned on to move."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Business

**Author's Note:**

> I turned the prompt into a Businessmen AU with a cranky and horny Killua. Enjoy!

There were things that annoyed Killua, and there were things that pissed him off. But then – then, there were things that made him fucking furious.  At seven-fucking-thirty in the morning, Killua had accidentally slept in and now, he’s too late for the stupid train to make himself coffee. He’s already murderous by the time he closes the door to his apartment, knowing that, on top of having to wait for god-knows-how-long just to get his stupid coffee, the conference he’s traveling for is in a city an hour away. 

However, he had done himself a favor and booked first class. While he has nothing against kids, listening to their screams and dealing with the consecutive headache is not the ideal way to start a morning. He had hoped he could maybe slip in a half hour of nap time, get some tasty snacks and read a bit of that book he had been falling asleep on for the past five days. All good.

God forbid things ever go the way he wants them to.

Just as he's crossing down the aisle to his seat, he’s met with a sight that makes his stomach churn, anger flare from the base of his neck and upwards,forcing Killua to stop walking just to stare at the source of his ire. _No fucking way._

_No fucking way. Fuck off._

The stranger _planting his ass in his seat_ has the gall to be staring out the window, a smile as bright as sunshine plastered all over his fucking face, and he’s _humming_. To himself.  Like he’s in the best fucking mood or something.

Killua has the good sense to calm down before he approaches the stranger – doesn’t want to make a scene on the train – and once he takes a few _very_ deep breaths, he taps his shoulder and puts on his best work smile.

“Excuse me?” The stranger (and Killua can’t help but notice how nicely his clothes hug his figure) looks at him, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of his mouth dropping for a split second, and then the blinding smile is back, tenfold.

“Yes?”

Killua is taken aback by the smile, and he has to swallow before he remembers that the ungodly heathen with the spiky hair is still in his seat.

Killua points to the stranger’s ass. “That’s my seat.”

The man’s face contorts into one of confusion once again, and he pulls out his ticket, presumably to check if Killua’s claim is true. Killua does the same, because even though he double checked before entering the wagon, he’d rather avoid any unnecessary embarrassment, on the off chance that he's wrong.

A4. Yes, it’s his seat.

Killua looks down at the man with crossed arms, a smug smile on his face. However, Mr. Spikes has not moved yet.

“Um… I think you’re mistaken. This is my seat, look.” Pulling out his own ticket to show to Killua, the man smiles at him apologetically, tongue sticking out lightly from his mouth. Killua forces himself to look away from the stranger’s mouth and instead, at the number on the ticket. A4.

_Why._

Killua shows him his own, because there’s no way in hell he’s losing this argument. Fuck his pretty mouth. That’s _his_ seat and he’s going to have it even if it he has to physically fight Spikeface. His bags fall with a threatening thud as he lets go of them, and Killua swears he can feel his fake polite smile drop into a scowl. He doesn’t mean to, but he’s had enough of this Wednesday and it’s barely started. Spikeface is smart enough to raise his hands in a pacific gesture, but he makes no motion to move.

“We can call the attendants if this is going to be a problem.”

 _Fuck, no._ It’s been five minutes since he got on the train, and he already feels like grabbing the asshole and smashing his face against the fucking window. _He wants to fight over my seat? It’s too fucking early for this. I’m not doing this._

_Not today._

Killua shows the stranger the brightest smile he can force through his teeth, given the utter lack of anything even remotely cheerful running through his mind, and says: “Nope. It’s fine.”

The stranger looks at him, dumbfounded. Of course he can tell that absolutely nothing’s fine. He lowers his hands on to his lap, points towards one of the attendants down the aisle, the one with a similar expression to Killua’s, smiling but with murder spilling out of the corners of his lips, and Killua waves his suggestion away.

He’s still smiling.

“It’s _just_ fine.” He says, collecting the bags he’d thrown on the floor, he puts them on the spot next to the stranger’s, even pats them down before turning to face him.

“We got the same seat, so we’ll just have to share.”

If the man looked confused before, now he looks to be slightly alarmed as well. He points towards himself, and then towards Killua, hands motioning between the both of them.

“I… don’t think two grown men will fit in the same-”

Killua sits on him.

“Oh.”

Killua gets comfortable, resting his head on the window, and even goes as far as shimmying down in his place to find the best position. He’s going to be sitting there for the next hour, after all, and he notes with pleasure that, at the very least, the man’s legs are soft. He hears the man groan in exasperation beneath him, his hands moving awkwardly around Killua’s body, as if he’s afraid of touching him.

Good. Killua will bite his head off if he does. Then, a sigh.

“This isn’t necessary, you know? We can just talk to-”

Killua expertly talks over him.

“No,” he says, making sure that his hipbones dig into the man’s legs. He smiles when he sees him wince. “No. It’s my seat. And it’s also yours.”

“But-”

“It’s _our_ seat.”

A resigned huff, followed my more wincing as Killua’s bones continue to press into the man’s thighs, and then, “Okay.”

Just as he’s pulling out his book from his suitcase (because fuck it – he’s going to do what he had planned to and no one could stop him), he smiles with a bit of satisfaction when he hears Spiky whine, the only time his boney-you’re-too-thin body has done him any good. Then, when he gets comfortable again and pulls out the bookmark, tan hands circle around his waist, and he reacts, lightning-fast, with an elbow to the man’s face. The stranger’s hands leave his waist immediately to clutch at his red nose, and Killua turns around to look at him with a scowl on his lips.

“What?! At least let me get comfortable!”

Killua concedes that, yes, that would be appropriate. He turns back to his book.

“Fine. But no funny business. I’ve got enough of that crap with my boss.”

The man snorts. “Geez. Somebody’s in a shit mood. You forgot your morning coffee or something?”

His shoulders tense as Killua remembers for the umpteenth time that day that he _still_ needs his coffee. “Bingo.” The stranger shakes beneath him with realization, the vibration of his laughter passing through his shirt and tickling Killua’s back.

Killua’s ears turn red from embarrassment, and he hates that he can’t control how the blood rushes to his face. So what if needs one or two cups of coffee in the morning? Aggravating him even more, the man’s laughter grows deeper, and he clutches Killua’s waist tightly, as if he can’t physically contain his amusement.

“I’ll get you some. It’s not great, but it’ll get the glare off your face.” A few hiccups of laughter still leave his lips, but for the most part, he’s calmed down.

“No, thank you. I’m fine.” He replies, almost instantly, sharp and cold.

“Oh, so Mr. Ice Queen finally remembers his manners.”

Killua groans. “I’m trying to read.”

“I can see. My name’s Gon by the way.” His tone is good-natured by now, and while Killua wants to stay angry at the man, there’s a mirthful light in his eyes slowly calming his anger. Finally taking the time to really look at the stranger, Killua finally notices how _attractive_ he is, with his dark skin and gorgeous amber eyes, all brought together by the set of his jaw and the broadness of his shoulders.

Killua feels another blush coming on ( _stop stop stop_ ), and he looks away, favoring his book instead of looking at the decidedly _not_ that hot stranger.

“…I’m Killua.”

“Alright then, Killua. I’ll get you your coffee.”

“…Thanks.”

Gon tries to get up from their peacefully shared seat, but Killua’s having none of it, so instead he has to call one of the attendants to fetch them some. The attendant can’t help but stare at them as Gon looks at her with an apology in his expression and as Killua, with his crossed legs and book in hand, with boredom in his.

—

Once the lone cup of coffee is in his system half an hour later, Gon notes that the glare in his face _had_ disappeared, so could he get off now, please? Of course, Killua pretends to be too engrossed with his book to pay him any heed – frankly, the man’s comfortable as hell and as sad as it is, it 's been two years since he’s been with anyone in a semi-intimate position. He misses it, to say the least. The fact that Gon’s hot as hell and he can feel his muscles move under him did nothing to help his case.

But Gon has other plans.

“Look, I could handle it for a while, but you’re _heavy_ and my legs are starting to fall asleep.”

Killua turns the page of his book, not that he was doing any reading.

“Honestly, I can’t feel them anymore.”

Another page.

“We can switch places if you want.”

Finally, Killua closes his book, refusing to look at him. He’s having fun with this now, his need to fight for the damn seat long forgotten. “That’s what you get for sitting in my seat. I marked this seat with my ass.”

He almost laughs when an annoyed and mildly panicked sound leaves Gon’s mouth, and he can tell now that it’s not just exasperation at the fact that his legs are falling asleep. Something else…

“ _Please_ , just get off my legs.” Gon’s begging now, squirming around and trying to lift Killua off from his waist, when he feels it.

_Ah. So that’s why._

There’s something that wasn’t there before pressing against his legs, hard and thick and Killua _freezes_. Gon, in turn, freezes as well, and both of them have a hard time looking at each other. Gon lets go of Killua’s waist and turns away so that he can’t see his face, but Killua manages to see the blush on his cheeks.

They stay like that for what seems like an eternity, Gon breathing hard and Killua trying to size up his cock, which is _fucking huge_ , when Killua’s skin becomes hypersensitive and Gon’s panting all over his neck is giving him goosebumps, the hands on his hips shooting a wave of arousal down his stomach. Gon hasn’t noticed that he’s getting hard as well, and Killua doesn’t know whether to be thankful for it or whether to wish that Gon would notice and _do_ something about it. Very slowly, Killua grinds down on Gon’s legs, and his own breath hitches when a tiny moan escapes Gon’s lips.

_Shit._

“Sorry…” Gon doesn’t so much sound embarrassed for himself (he _still_ hasn’t noticed that Killua’s hard), as he is for the situation, but he offers the best explanation he can.  “You just… kept wiggling around on top of me and I kind of…”

 _Reacted._ Killua grinds on him again, thinks _fuck it, I haven’t gotten any in ages and I’ll take what I can get_ , and groans just loudly enough that only Gon will hear him. He seems to get the idea.

At least now he knows he’s interested.

“This is _my_ seat.”

“ _Fuck_ , Killua.”

Killua doesn't say anything back, and he’s pretty sure that if he had been in the right state of mind, his consciousness would be screaming at him to _stop right now, you filthy fucker,_ but his cock is aching for release and it’s been actual years since he’s had anyone’s hands on his body: feeling, roaming, and just grabbing at him desperately in the way that tells him Gon _needs_ to have him right now.

Killua tries to spread his legs wide to help him move, but then he remembers he’s in public and this is very much _not okay_. Instead, he continues to grind on Gon’s covered cock, slow and hard, drawing it out as much as he can so he can take in all of the little noises Gon is making and trying to cover up with his hands.

Killua’s blush is up to his ears, and he’s trying to keep his own voice in check because Gon’s hands are moving everywhere under his shirt, dragging fingertips across his ribs and his nipples, causing goosebumps to rise in his skin. Heat follows Gon’s touches as they moved down, massaging his hips, jumping with Killua’s own erratic grinding, and finally resting on the waistband of his slacks.

“Don’t.” Killua moans through his teeth, his mouth chattering with the effort of keeping his voice in. Killua moving his hips is very different from Gon jacking him off in public.

“But-”

“No. I’ll deal with it later.”

Gon’s hands retreat and instead they rest on Killua’s hips, once again rubbing circles on the skin. As he entwines his own hands with Gon’s, Killua can hear Gon’s breath speed up, becoming louder, harsher. The hips below him buckle upwards, once, twice, and then, Gon’s grip on Killua’s hips becomes vice like, his head falls in the space between Killua’s shoulder blades, and then he _moans_ , low and needy.

The weight resting on Killua’s back leaves, but Gon is still panting, still holding Killua tight, when he realizes that Killua’s not done.

“You should really take care of that.” Gon’s tone is suggestive, and once again his hands move towards the inside of his legs, but Killua just slaps them away.

“I said, later. But, I’m still not getting off of you, just so you know.”

“Wait, are you serious? I wasn’t lying about my legs going numb!”

—

Once the train ride is over, and Killua’s problem has exacerbated because Gon just couldn’t fucking _sit still_ and let him _be_ , he runs out of the station to get himself to the nearest public restroom. He won’t last much longer and he refuses to will his hard-on away because that was the hottest thing he’s done in ages and he’ll get to come from it at least one time.

Once again, though, Gon has different plans for the both of them, and before Killua can disappear from his sight, he grabs him by the wrist and pulls him into a hug to whisper something in his ear.

“We’re not done yet.”

Killua doesn’t have the presence of mind to check if he’ll be on time for his meeting, and he can’t even bring himself to care. Not when Gon’s dragging him towards the bathroom stalls on the first floor of the hotel he’s supposed to be staying at. Not when Gon’s pulling down Killua's pants and giving him a look that makes the room feel hot and makes his skin tingle. Not when Gon has his cock in his mouth, and he’s holding him up so he doesn’t fall because his knees are buckling as his tongue does _the thing_ and he can’t help but bite back a moan before everyone in the damn building hears him. Not when Gon has him balls deep, moaning as Killua fucks his mouth and throws his head back because he’s close, he’s close, he’s _close_ -

Killua can’t really remember if he makes any noise when he comes, but he does remember the fucking smirk plastered on Gon’s face, like he’s so fucking _proud_ when he wipes his face off.

“That was quick.” Gon says in the stall next to Killua’s. He’s changing his pants (still dirty from their session on the train) as he lets Killua catch his breath.

“Fuck off, Gon.”

Killua has to stop himself from slamming his fist against the wall when he hears a faint giggle across his stall.

—

Killua can’t _fucking_ believe it. It’s like fate has something against him. Gon is scratching his head with his right hand, pointedly avoiding Killua’s gaze.

“Alright, everyone.”

_No fucking way._

“First things first. Before we start.”

_Nope.  
_

“Let me introduce the new member of the team.”

_I fucked my coworker._

“Everyone welcome Gon Freecss to the team!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First fic I'm posting for the HxH fandom! I recently got into it so I'm gonna be writing quite a bit for Killugon!


	2. Coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part was requested by cellaira on tumblr, and here it is.

By the time the meeting’s over, Killua has excused himself for a bathroom break around four times, and each time he washes his face for a whole minute. The shame of what he did on the train finally begins to settle in the pit of his stomach, and every time someone calls on him during the meeting, he can feel his ears go red when his voice squeaks at the beginning of each sentence.

Killua feels like he’s giving himself away, because really, no one had actually seen what they had gotten up to – that Gon had literally given him a blowjob not fifteen minutes before he was introduced to the team – but whenever his voice catches in his throat and someone asks him if he’s alright, he can feel Gon’s eyes on him, eyebrows raised and a small, infuriating tug of a smirk pulling at his lips.

_Jackass._

Gon talks a lot during the meeting (and thank God he isn’t Killua’s boss or Killua’s subordinate because that would have made things even worse than they already were), and the confidence that Killua had been so taken with on the train doesn’t fail to win Killua’s coworkers over. They listen attentively, laughing at Gon’s very much _not funny_ attempts at humor, by which he means that Gon’s jokes are hilarious until he shoots a knowing glance at Killua. 

Now, Killua’s a confident man, composed and analytical and one of the best at his job, but when Gon opens his mouth to introduce himself, all Killua can think about is how those pretty pink lips had been around his cock only minutes before, how his hands and their sweeping, expressive gestures had been sitting tightly on Killua’s hips, gripping them until his skin was pink and Gon’s voice shuddered with his orgasm.

He has to get up to wash his face again after that.

What’s even more infuriating still, besides the fact that Killua has not had his second cup of coffee yet, is that Gon can not keep his eyes off of Killua for the entire duration of the meeting. When Gon shakes hands with his new co-workers, he lingers on Killua’s and even goes as far to give him a hug, acting like they had been best friends that hadn’t seen each other in years.

“Killua,” Gon begins, with a tone of voice that leaves no room for argument; ‘play along’, it says. “I can’t believe you’re working here, too!” Killua hugs Gon back and puts on one of his best smiles for his boss, but not before whispering murder into Gon’s ears. They made up some bullshit excuse about how close they were in college, seeing that ‘I got him off on the train’ is generally not a safe-for-work introduction.

The whole meeting goes like that: Gon touches him at every opportunity he gets, and after they are (unfortunately) seated next to each other, Gon both takes the chance to stare at Killua’s lips and hips in an impossibly suggestive manner when no one’s looking, and _casually_ bump his hand against Killua’s.

It’s the most exhausting meeting Killua has ever had.

Of course, the Gods seem to find his misery particularly hilarious that day, so Killua’s suffering is not over with when the meeting ends. They call it a day after four, and while the next day promises and even worse ordeal – Killua did not know how many more meetings he could handle with Gon fucking Freecss staring at him with sex in his eyes – he thinks that he can at least have a moment of peace in his hotel room. 

Killua has to laugh.

After they say their goodbyes and they all head towards their hotel or their homes (Killua very pointedly not allowing his gaze to fall on the bathroom entrances of his hotel), Killua notices that Gon followed him all the way to the hotel lobby.

Gon has his arms crossed behind his head as he follows Killua, a whistle on his lips and a pep in his step that only furthers Killua’s irritation. When it looks like Gon won’t let up, even after he checks in (Gon checking in right after him), steps into the elevator and presses the 2 button, and is standing in front of his fucking _room_ , he finally thinks it necessary to say something to Gon Freecss.

“I hope you’re not expecting a repeat of the morning.” Killua says as he pulls out his keycard, not dignifying Gon with so much as a glance in his direction.

Silence.

“Because it’s not gonna happen.”

Then, Gon sighs, and Killua has to resist the urge to look at him when he hears Gon’s heavy footsteps coming towards him. Gon’s too-wide hands are on his hips before he leans down and noses the back of his neck (Killua blatantly ignores the way his own breath hitches in his throat at the small touch), before whispering in his ear.

“Now, this might come as a surprise to you, Mister-I-have-no-idea-who-my-coworkers-are-” and Killua swerves because that wasthe _both_ of them, and there’s a scathing retort on his tongue but Gon interrupts him with the grip on his waist growing tighter. “-but when people work for the same company, they might end up getting adjacent rooms. _That_ –“he points at the room right next to Killua’s. “-is my room. Now get that _stick_ out of your ass. I’m just as tired as you are, but you are more than welcome to join me in bed if you ever feel like quitting your teenaged virgin act.”  

And without warning, Gon’s hands are gone, the door shuts behind his tall form, and Killua is left alone in the hall. 

Killua spends the rest of the evening sulking, because really, how dare Gon pretend he didn’t want him _back_ when he had spent the better part of the morning literally trying to shove his hands down Killua’s pants on a fucking train. Just because Gon didn’t mind making everything fucking weird in the office did not mean Killua was willing to sacrifice his comfort. 

_Enough,_ he thought. _It’s time to relax and get comfortable._

And Killua planned to do just that. His morning had been hectic and his plans ruined for the most part, but he would enjoy what was left of the day.

However, Gon’s last words keep distracting him from any attempts at relaxing. He realizes that he might have been a bit… rude in his previous exchange with Gon, and the need to apologize gets stronger with every passing minute. Of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that Killua actually wants to see Gon’s beautiful face and body again, or that Gon’s invitation has actually affected Killua far more than he thought it would. Nope.

Killua leaves his room at 8. He still hasn’t put his pajamas on, only taking off his tie and unbuttoning the first two buttons of his dress shirt. He knocks on Gon’s door tentatively, because really, what was he _doing_? 

Once Gon opens the door to his room, in sweat pants and shirtless, Killua curses his luck. He has to fight his eyes to stay on Gon’s face and _not his abs not his abs not his gorgeous, chiseled fucking abs_ , and Gon smiled at him, slow and bright, like he’s honestly surprised Killua is there.

“Didn’t think you’d really come. I was getting ready for bed, actually.”

At that, Killua goes red, and he can hear his heartbeat hammering in his ears. Embarrassment threatens to take him over when he realizes that he had been the only one fretting over Gon’s stupid proposition. He shakes his head and turns around, only for Gon to grab his wrist and force him to face him again.

“Didn’t mean it like that.” Gon then pulls him back and drags his eyes across Killua’s frame, slowly, as if he’s drinking in every little detail of his body. Gon’s eyes linger on his exposed collarbones and the silver of skin that wasn’t hidden by the rest of his shirt. “You know, you look better when your clothes aren’t all stiff and proper.”

Killua coughs at that (and ignores Gon’s nasty little smirk), because he came to _apologize_ , and he’s not going to let the man scrutinize him like that.

“I just wanted to apologize for before.” Killua starts. Gon actually seems surprised, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline and his grip on Killua’s wrist loosening considerably. Killua shakes him off completely.

“I was out of line.” 

Then, Gon laughs, loud and genuine and it makes something in Killua’s stomach flutter in both shame (because had he said something stupid?) and a bit of something else he doesn’t want to recognize, and Gon throws his head back as Killua stares in bewilderment.

“Killua,” Gon says as his laughter begins to settle. “There really was no need for you to come up with an excuse like that just to talk me into fucking you. You’d think that someone as proud as you would have a harder time apologizing than asking for sex.” Then, his laughter is back full force.

“I didn’t come here for that!” Really, Gon assumed that everyone wanted to fuck him, and just because he oozed sex and was, frankly, hot as hell-

“Really?” Gon’s voice suddenly drops low, so low Killua can feel it in his belly, and the laugher is gone, replaced by Gon’s face all up in his own and the scent of fresh mint as Gon’s breath falls on his cheeks. “Because you look like you’re begging me to fuck you.”

His breath catches in his throat.

Yeah. He probably does.

—

Gon isn’t particularly gentle in his touches. He’s all brute force and domineering strength and Killua has never been more turned on his life. He doesn’t really remember how long they stood at the door before Gon grabbed Killua’s shoulders, pulled him into the room, and closed the door behind him.

Killua feels the impact of the door behind his back, can feel the doorknob dig into his back, but Gon’s lips are on his own in an instant, tongue parting Killua’s lips and tasting him over and over and over again to make up for all the times he couldn’t when they had been on the train. He plants his knee snuggly between Killua’s legs, and uses his arms to bring Killua flush against his own body, pulling a soft gasp out of his lips when the friction of Gon’s knees sends shocks down Killua’s spine.

Killua’s head is still hazy from the kiss when Gon drags his tongue down the side of his jaw, slow, slow, painfully slow, putting a finger to his lips when Killua’s about to beg him to stop being such a fucking _tease_ , when he bites down on the junction between Killua’s neck and his shoulder. Gon sucks at the bite and Killua can feel the smirk on Gon’s lips when he throws his head back. 

With a moan spilling out of Killua’s lips, Gon peppers feather-light kisses all over his neck and shoulders as he pulls Killua’s shirt off, taking the opportunity to touch every single bit of exposed skin his hands could find. Gon’s hands are cooler now that Killua doesn’t have the shirt to keep him warm, and the fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake, but it’s not enough _not enough_ -

Killua grabs Gon’s hands and pushes them towards his belt.

Gon _stops_.

A needy, high-pitched whine is ripped out of Killua’s throat, his skin is hot, his breathing is coming out in hard puffs, and his cock is so hard it _hurts_ , and Gon _stops_. Gon’s own cock is straining hard against his pants, and his pupils are so blown out that Killua can only see a ring of gold around them. 

Gon’s hands are taut on his arms, and it seems to take him all of his willpower to just push Killua away for the two seconds it takes him to ask his question.

“How far do you want-” 

Killua doesn’t even let him finish. “Fuck me.”

Gon gulps. “You sure?” 

“ _Yes_ ,” he says, and he’s crashing their lips together again, pushing at his own belt and then at Gon’s sweatpants when his own pants fall to the floor. Killua breaks for air.  “Please, _fuck me._ ”

They make it to the bed at Gon’s insistence, and Killua almost screams out Gon’s name when he inserts the first finger. Gon is hovering over him, Killua’s back against the mattress with far too much space between them. It’s been ages, and the lube is just as cold as he remembered but the feeling of being full, the sensation of expectation for what’s to come and knowing that Gon’s hard, thick cock would be in him, fucking him senseless, is enough for Killua’s stomach to start coiling.

When Gon hits his prostrate, Killua doesn’t even bother to muffle his moan; his nails dig into Gon’s back and his toes curl, and he knows he’s screaming ‘hurry up’ but all he can hear are Gon’s pants and the way his mouth forms Killua’s name in a drawn-out moan after Killua grabs his cock and lines it up with his hole.

Then, Gon fucks into him, _agonozingly slow_ in the beginning and Killua can feel himself being stretched out like he hasn’t in years and it feels so fucking _good_. Once Gon feels comfortable enough to move at a quicker pace, it doesn’t take long for either of them to finish. Gon is merciless and he knows how to turn Killua into putty, biting at the skin of Killua’s sensitive neck as he hits his prostate over and over and over again with every jerk of his hips, right hand helping support Killua’s weight as his left jacks Killua off to the rhythm of his thrusts.

Killua comes into Gon’s hand with a broken moan of his name, and when Killua’s hole tightens around Gon’s cock, Gon is at the edge. With a low moan and head thrown back, Gon’s orgasm rips through him.

He falls limp against Killua, and after they catch their breath, Gon pulls out of him, rolling onto the other side of the bed. Gon makes sure his hands never stop touching Killua’s hips.

“That was…” Gon begins, because he has really no words to describe it besides ‘hot as fuck.’

“Pretty awesome, yeah.” Killua finished for him.

They both turn to face each other, but once the afterglow has been somewhat broken, Gon removes his hands and Killua gets up to leave. His legs wobble a bit and he heads directly for the mess they had created when they had been ripping each other’s clothes off, seemingly intent on not saying anything.

“You know, I’m not the kind of dick that would kick you out after fucking you. You don’t have to go.”

Killua visibly relaxes, and if he had been any less tired, he would have practically run to the bed. His eyes are already dropping by the time Killua curls up against Gon’s chest; Gon takes that as Killua’s way of saying ‘I actually do like you.’

“You know, before you pass out, wanna go out for coffee some time?” It’s wishful thinking, but Gon is nothing if not optimistic.

“I don’t date my co-workers.” Killua yawns back at him. Gon chuckles as his own eyes begin to droop with the weight of sleep.

“Nah, you just fuck ‘em.”

A slurred ‘fuck off’ is all he gets in response. 

—

The next day, Killua is late to his meeting again because of inappropriately-timed blowjobs with Gon fucking Freecss in the too-early morning, but besides that, it’s surprisingly uneventful. Gon tries to fuck with him again, but it doesn’t really work this time around, but not for lack of Gon trying.

When they’re done (Killua’s never been so grateful for having the next day off), Killua is ready to relax on the hour-long train ride back home. He would finally get the chance to read the book he had failed to read because of his… circumstances with Gon.

God forbid things ever go the way he wants them too.

Gon smiles at him with the brightest fucking grin he can manage when they find out. Killua really can’t believe his luck sometimes. This had happened not once, but twice on a two-day trip, and Gon was pointing at the seat like it’s Killua’s throne. 

Their tickets read the same number again. 

“It’s _our_ seat, Killua.”

Killua thought it would only be fair to function as chair this time around, and in his attempts to ignore Gon’s blatant wiggling, he completely forgets about his book.

“I’m free tomorrow, by the way.” Killua says.

“Huh?”

“You asked me out for coffee.”

“Thought you didn’t date your co-workers?”

“No, I just fuck them before I know they’re my co-workers. So it doesn’t count.”

Gon laughs.

“I see. I’ll pick you up at one then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's it! I hope you guys had as much fun reading this as I did writing it!


End file.
